A Different Beginning
by Grey-Rain-Cloud
Summary: James and Lily insisted that Sirius be the Secret Keeper, and nothing is the same for it. Some lives change for the better, and some for the worse. These are the consequences to the people around them that their choice has wrought.


**A Different Beginning**

On the night of October 31st 1981, the Longbottom residence was attacked by Lord Voldemort. Alice Longbottom was killed first, telling her husband Frank to run with their one year old child, Neville, who he was holding. After killing Alice, Voldemort proceeded to the nursery, where Frank had taken Neville and no doubt found that Anti-Apparation Wards had been put up. The ever merciful Lord Voldemort offered Frank, a prominent Pureblood, his life if he stepped aside. Longbottom refused, and so was killed. Then He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named directed his wand at young Neville Longbottom, and said with a high pitched laugh, "_Avada kedavra_."

Because of Frank's sacrifice though, when Neville should have died the Killing Curse rebounded and hit the Dark Lord, turning him into nothing more than a shade of his former self. Shadows and vapour.

That was what happened on the night of October 31st 1981. A terrible tragedy. A family torn apart by death, and a little boy who would never know his parents while growing up. It was only a small choice that had brought this upon the Longbottom family though, because the Potters were equally at risk. This could have been their fate, but instead, because of the insistence of James and Lily Potter on who their Secret Keeper be, they avoided this.

On October 24th 1981, just one week previous, the Potters cast the Fidelius Charm with Sirius Black as their Secret Keeper. When this choice was decided upon, Black had come to the Potters with the idea that Peter Pettigrew, a rather mediocre wizard but nonetheless their friend, be the real Secret Keeper while Sirius be the decoy. So while the Death Eaters, Voldemort's lackeys, were off searching for him, Peter would be squirreled away until the danger had passed and You-Know-Who was no longer intent on exterminating the Potter family.

"I just… I don't trust myself enough to not tell the Secret if I was being well… tortured." Sirius said to James and Lily when they pressed on why he no longer wanted to be the one who knew their location, "And it'd be safest, I think, because who would think that Peter would be entrusted with being the Secret Keeper? No one."

James Potter had frowned and shared a glance with his wife, who was holding their one year old boy, Harry. "I dunno Padfoot," he began, "I'd feel more comfortable if it were you and not Peter. No offence to Wormtail of course, but… y'know." He couldn't really put into words the sureness he felt in Sirius being the only thing keeping Voldemort and his followers, but put it dow to him being closer with Sirius. They were like brothers, and he had faith that if Sirius was subjected to torture—which James didn't think was likely, as Sirius had always been able to luck his way through everything, and why wouldn't that be true with this?—then he would keep their location to himself.

"I agree Sirius," Lily backed up her husband, "I trust you with this more than I do Peter."

James gave Sirius a very significant look, and Black backed down. While Lily had never gone and said it, she didn't like Sirius as much as James' other two school friends, Peter and Remus Lupin. She had always thought that Black was the most irresponsible of the lot, and a bad influence. It had only been on James' insistence that he be made godfather to Harry instead of one of the others. So the fact that she was trusting Sirius with her life and the lives of her family was very huge. James had seen that, and so had Sirius.

So Sirius became the Secret Keeper to the Potter family on October 24th, and then went to a small and drafty cottage he had bought for his hiding place. It was secluded and had been uninhabited for years, and with only Peter knowing the location—so he could come and check up on him, as well as bring food and other essentials—Sirius felt safe, and therefore James and Lily were safe.

He wasn't safe.

Peter Pettigrew was a coward, and when the war had gotten bad, instead of staying loyal to his friends and the Light, he had gone to Voldemort and become a spy to save his own skin. He had become excited when Sirius had come to him with the idea that he become the Secret Keeper; so had his Master when he told him. But then Sirius had come with the news that he was not, in fact, going to get the precious information. The Dark Lord had not been pleased, but when Peter said that he knew where Black was hiding out, he had been saved from more than one Cruciatus.

So the night of October 24th came, and instead of Peter being there like he had expected, Sirius saw Voldemort and several Death Eaters. He didn't even have his wand on him. There was no dramatic duel, only torture. While Voldemort cast _crucio_ and asked the location of the three Potters, his followers cast various painful, most commonly a simple Cutting Curse, just to see his blood-traitor Black blood spilled.

At the beginning of this, before the torture had begun, a Death Eater—Peter Pettigrew—had cast _incarcerous_ on Black, binding him with rope so he had no chance of escaping. But Sirius, in true blood-traitor fashion, carried a pocket knife, and as soon as he could, began the careful process of severing the rope, between his screams and spasms and refusals. He found it surprisingly easy to say no. To not tell the Secret. He surprised even himself when he felt only rage and pain, and not the desperation that he had suspected would grip him in a metal fist and refuse to let go until he betrayed his brother in all but blood.

"Tell me the location of the Potters," the Dark Lord demanded impatiently—he was getting tired of the adamant refusals to his one simple request, though he did enjoy the screams; they were getting hoarse though, and soon Black would lose his voice, then it would cease being amusing. "If you do, Lord Voldemort will grant you a swift death." (At the beginning he said he would grant him his life—only if he joined his service—but Voldemort no longer wanted this pest alive.)

"No!" The rope was close to being cut.

"_Crucio_!"

Sirius screamed, and when he curse was lifted he could not help the dry sobs that came out of him. Voldemort's Cruciatus was so much more powerful than his mothers had been. Despite his trembling though, he was still able to get the last of the robe to snap, and the rest of it unraveled with it.

Sirius burst from his confines, and before the Dark Wizards could react he turned into his Animagus form, a large black Grim-like dog, and ran off. He ran as fast as his stumbling legs could take him, out of the Anti-Apparation Wards. He turned back to his human self and Disapparated to St. Mungos.

When a bleeding wizard burst through the doors to the magical hospital, he was immediately brought to the emergency room. And when he said, "Don't tell anybody… don't tell… that I'm here… it's… it's a s-secret…" the Medi-Witches and Medi-Wizards did as he asked. It was a time of war, and if it saved a patient's life by not informing where they were to anyone, then that patient was not there.

* * *

On the morning of November 1st, while eating breakfast, a Phoenix—the only bird that could get past the Fidelius—sent by Albus Dumbledore brought James and Lily Potter a letter informing them of the fall of Voldemort by one Neville Longbottom and that they were free to come out of hiding if they wanted. It also informed them that Peter Pettigrew had been apprehended and sent to Azkaban after an anonymous letter informed the Ministry of his status as a Death Eater.

* * *

James Potter, Lily Potter, and Remus Lupin waited anxiously at the Three Broomsticks for Sirius Black. Their drinks had remained untouched, and James was watching the rivulets of perspiration on his glass of water with a kind of fascination. Every so often though, he would betray himself by glancing at the door, wishing that it would open. Just like the other two.

It was November 2nd, around ten in the morning, so the Three Broomsticks was close to empty.

After getting the letter from Dumbledore, James and Lily had gone immediately to Remus and asked franticly if he had heard from Sirius. When it was discovered that he had not, Lily had burst into tears and James had backed into a wall and slid down, catatonic. When Remus had finally gotten out of Lily the story—Peter: spy. Sirius: Secret Keeper. Peter: Death Eater. Peter: knew where Sirius was—and incoherent mumblings from a devastated James—"Huh… mimble… Padfoot… oh no… all my fault…"—he had been rational enough to suggest that they send him a letter for a meeting. They had decided on November 2nd because by then the initial celebrations would have died down, and people would be expected back at work, and also because they didn't know exactly where Sirius was—or if he was alive, but they refused to think too much on that—and they wanted there to be enough time for the owl to get to him.

They had decided to meet at the Three Broomsticks at ten thirty a.m., but had arrived half an hour early, and had to wait thirty excruciating minutes for their friend to show. Lily and James had left Harry with a fellow Order of the Phoenix member and former teacher, Minerva McGonagall, as they still didn't feel it was safe enough to bring him out in public—you never knew who was an enemy.

The door finally opened, and ten thirty one, and Sirius Black came in, only he was much changed since James, Lily, and Remus had last seen him.

His black hair was just as shiny as before, and his eyes still that bright grey, but that was about all that was the same. His face had three straight diagonal scars going from his right temple to his left cheek, and many other less noticeable and smaller ones scattered randomly. His face was pinched as he leaned on a black cane while he walked over to their table, and his eyes, though still grey, looked pained instead of mischievous. His robes were black and plain, there was no leather jacket—his outfit was picked out purely for comfort.

He reached their table and took in their shocked expressions, their pale faces and red eyes, and eased himself gingerly onto a hard wooden chair. He said, "I've not had a easy time of it, could one of you order me a Firewhiskey?"


End file.
